Cloaked By Night
by mydoctortennant
Summary: On one of the long nights that Gwen is looking after Morgana she gets a surprise visitor.


A cooling breeze rattled through the city streets, sending a chill through the bones of every person who lived there. It was on nights like these that Gwen knew Morgana suffered with her nightmares the most. Times like these when the maidservant would stay with the ward of the King to make sure that she made it through the night without breaking down when she woke.

Gwen never knew the true extent of her mistresses dreams, all she knew if that they scared her enough to wake her screaming in the middle of the night.

Quietly making her way around the room, Gwen snuffed out the candle and made sure it was fully out before removing it from the bedside table. She took it from the room completely so not to have a repeat of before. Ever since the fire Gwen had taken care to take anyway anything that could be a danger during Morgana's dreams.

She couldn't explain it, in many ways, she didn't want to. Explaining it would only mean having to go down the path of trying to explain how her mistress could showcase a sorcerer's power without being a sorcerer. It just didn't make any sense. So she chose to ignore it.

-

Gwen spent the nights she kept an eye on Morgana in the servant's quarters that connected to her chambers with the door slightly ajar, that way she could easily hear if her mistress was in distress.

On the long nights she often gathered any sewing jobs she owed people, or any other odd ends she could complete whilst listening out for her mistress. If she did happen to fall asleep she was well tuned to wake whenever she heard the slightest disturbance. Night's like these made Gwen grateful that she had a close friendship with Morgana. If she didn't, she would have never sacrificed her time like she did.

The days afterwards when Gwen would trail around trying her hardest not to look tired, always wore on her the most, but she did it for her mistress. She did it for her friend.

Morgana hadn't viewed Gwen as her servant for many years, having grown up with the girl in tow she was more of a friend, more of a sister than anything else. She was certainly closer to Gwen than she had ever been to Arthur. Neither of which was she related to by blood.

-

The night was drawing in, the chill set in the air and every man and his aide were tucked away in their homes with logs on the fire and blankets around them. Now a soul was awake by choice, not a soul but Gwen.

Morgana was sleeping – fitfully, but sleeping – so Gwen kept herself alert. She could feel her eyes drooping every once and a while, but never did it come to pass. She was sewing together one of Merlin's shirts that he had presented to her earlier that day with a hole in the seam. He was rather fond of his red shirt and had begged her with those eyes of his for her to fix it.

Being her friend of course, she wasn't about to turn him down, but she hadn't thought she would get the opportunity to fix the garment so quickly.

A soft knock on the door to the small room had been the most unexpected thing. It was past midnight and she hadn't been expecting company.

She placed the shirt on the small table and approached the door, not wanting to call out due to the fear of waking her mistress. She pulled the door open and snuck a glance around it, "Arthur?" she exclaimed, forgetting herself for a second before allowing the future King to pass through, "What are you doing here?" she whispered, trying her hardest to keep her voice down after her small outburst.

"Merlin mentioned that you were staying with Morgana," he replied, his voice low, "I thought I would keep you company."

"My lord, you do not have to."

"No, but I want to. If there is another fire, I want to know you," he faltered and looked to the door that lead to Morgana's chambers, "and Morgana, are safe."

"I'm sure we'll be fine."

"Well, I'm awake now," he lamely reasoned, "I might as well spend the time being productive," he produced one of the catalogues of requests that the townsfolk had made, and smirked.

"Now you're here."

-

Sleep slowly taking her, Gwen was leaning on her hand, eyes slowly drifting shut. There was a cry from Morgana's chambers which woke her.

"Morgana," Gwen stood and made her way through to her. Arthur stood and followed, half asleep himself. Gwen approached her mistresses bed, on seeing she wasn't asleep she sat on the edge of the bed, and held her arms so she didn't lash out, "Morgana, it's okay, it's not real," she said, not caring if her voice woke her mistress now as it would ease her from her pain.

Gwen continued to calm Morgana, but not once did she wake from her restless slumber. Eventually she calmed. Gwen drew a few long breathes, and ran her hand over Morgana's forehead, stroking the hairs away from being plastered to her forehead.

Arthur watched her from the door. The tenderness of her actions reminded him of the foggy memory he had of her tending to his fever. Only he didn't recall her pressing a light kiss to his forehead before she left him.

Morgana looked peaceful as he watched her over Gwen's shoulder as she walked back to him.

"I would call that favouritism," he jested as she closed the door behind her.

"Favouritism?"

"I don't recall you kissing me when tending to my fever."

"I think you'll find your account of that is skewed at best, my lord."

"The man you've seen inside?"

"Deluded, my lord."

"Guinevere," he reached out and pulled her round, "I think we've passed embarrassed smiles and small lies."

"Arthur-"

"I don't agree with favouritism," he smirked, reaching out his hand and running the backs of his fingers over her cheek, "It's not like it's nothing you've ever done before."

"Which would make this favouritism."

"I don't care about that."

"But you sai-" He didn't give her a chance to finish. He stooped, moving his hand to the nape of her neck and pressed his lips firmly to hers. She kissed him back with the same vigour. Any sense of fairness be damned.

Especially when Morgana chose that moment to wake up screaming. It didn't take a second for Gwen to turn away from Arthur and run to help her mistress; leaving Arthur standing in the middle of the room his gaze following her as she made to comfort Morgana.

He took that as his cue to leave. If his father got wind that he had been here then there would be no end to the questions, and he didn't need Morgana asking any either.


End file.
